


A Clint Barton Christmas

by AlyKat



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Clint Needs a Hug, Feelstide 2014, Happily Ever After, Insecure Clint, M/M, Misunderstanding, Not Agents Of SHIELD compliant, Ol' Clint Barton Had a Farm, only vaguely Captain America: The Winter Soldier compliant, very brief mention of Clint Barton’s farm, very tiny itty bitty small AOU spoiler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2650661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyKat/pseuds/AlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Really, when he thought about it, how could Clint ever hope to compete with Steve Rogers, the literal All-American boy? Who could blame Phil for finally giving in and wanting Steve instead of him? Clint just really hoped Phil would wait until after the holidays to dump him. But then, when has Clint ever gotten what he’s really wanted?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Clint Barton Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Very special thanks to [roguebowtie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/roguebowtie/pseuds/roguebowtie) for being a wonderful beta on this for me. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it and have a very Merry Christmas!

Clint wasn’t blind, he saw what was happening. The way Phil would sneak off when he thought no one would notice, and usually at the same time as Steve would disappear. He had JARVIS find Phil for him one night, only to find out he was in Steve’s quarters and had requested not to be disturbed. 

Yeah. Clint definitely saw what was happening. Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Phil’d been in love with Steve Rogers since he was six years old, of course it was only a matter of time before he realized how much better off he’d be with than with a Loser Ex-Circus Brat. Still, he at least hoped Phil would let them have just one more Christmas together. Let Clint have one more warm, fuzzy morning with him, waking up slowly to snow falling outside their window and JARVIS turning their Christmas lights on dim. All he wanted for Christmas was to spend just that little bit of time together with Phil, pretending everything was fine, that he wasn’t going to be dumped. 

It hurt in more ways than possible when he saw the way Phil’s eyes would brighten when Steve walked in the room, how Steve would give Phil those little knowing glances that practically made Phil squirm. Jesus, how much more obvious could they be? 

That was just the beginning, though. It was when the others started becoming secretive around him that Clint started going more than a little bit nuts. 

First it was Bruce. Which, okay, Banner always was pretty quiet and secretive before, but it was the way he’d clam up as soon as Clint appeared that let on things weren’t as they should have been. The way Bruce would quickly switch screens on his tablet, when Clint came into sight, was making Clint grow more and more suspicious. Did Bruce know Phil was planning to break up with him? Jesus! Was he going to help!? Clint had always kind of liked Bruce. He was quirky and seemed to make Natasha happy, so that was good in his books. He never thought Bruce would take part in any backstabbing. 

Then there was Tony and Thor. Neither one were particularly good at keeping secrets, or their mouths shut, and yet, they both went quiet and watchful when Clint would enter the room. Tony usually making some crack about how smiling every once in a while really wouldn’t bring about the end of the world, and what did a guy like Agent see in a broody bastard like him? And Thor! Thor, the traitorous jackass, would agree with Stark. Then they’d both give the smuggest smirks in the world, until Clint finally got fed up and just walked out. 

It was when Natasha went secretive on him that Clint thought for sure it’d just be easier to take a long walk off a short pier and save everyone the trouble of keeping Phil’s fucking secret for him. 

Which was why, at five o’clock Christmas Eve, while everyone was busying themselves in the common area, Clint finally made the decision to end things himself. If he was going to be the last to know that Phil was planning to break up with him, so fucking close to Christmas, then fine. Clint was going to beat him to the punch. Better to hurt first than to be hurt later. 

His mind was made up. If everyone hated him for it afterwards, then, well, he’d just leave. He had other places he could be, after all. Like that damn farm he bought upstate that he’d been working to put back together and get up and running again. That was supposed to be a Christmas present for Phil, probably the next year if they’d stayed together. He could totally go there if everyone hated him and ran him off for this. 

Leather jacket already on, Clint strolled into the common room like a man with a mission. He missed the look of surprise on Thor’s face, and the way Tony and Natasha shared concerned glances as Clint moved to muscle Steve into a corner. Being a good four inches shorter than Steve, it would almost be funny -- if it weren’t for the fact they all knew how terrifying Clint actually could be. Not that anyone would be worried about him, of course. He might get one lucky punch off that would, at best, stun Steve; but it wouldn’t do anything more than that, and it’d be the last one he got before Steve had him pinned. 

“Hey, birdbrain,” Tony called from his place behind the sofa, “Agent’s been looking for you. He—“

“I know why he’s looking for me,” growled Clint in response, his sharp eyes, dark with anger, narrowed and never left Steve’s face. “I’m beatin’ him to it.”

Confusion twisted across Steve’s face and damn if the man didn’t look so much like a bewildered and kicked puppy. More reason for Phil to finally give in and leave him for Steve. 

“Clint, what are you—“

Like a flash, Clint had hold of Steve’s shirt and shoved him against the wall. “Cram it, Cap. Let me get this out, and then I’ll be out of the way, alright.” 

Clint paused to take a breath, completely unfazed by the audience he’d attracted. All the Avengers were present, along with Maria Hill, Steve and Natasha’s friend Sam Wilson, and hiding in a dark corner was the mysterious Bucky Barnes. The only person missing, was Phil. 

“I know what’s going on,” Clint finally started.

Steve’s shoulders fell, disappointment evident in his eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. You guys haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“Look, Clint, Phil wanted—“

Another growl escaped Clint, his forearm coming up to press against Steve’s chest. Hearing Steve use Phil’s first name instead of Coulson, like he usually would, was probably worse than hearing that things were over between the two of them. 

“Shut up and let me finish. I know what’s going on. Fine. Whatever. Always figured it was a matter of time before he realized just how much better than me he could do. So if it’s gotta be somebody else, at least it’s you. He’s been crushin’ on you since he was six, anyway.” Clint ignored the way his throat had gotten tight, or the way the backs of his eyes prickled. 

“Just… take good care of him, okay? He roots for the Cubs, but try not to hold it against him. Pretty sure he only roots for ‘em ‘cause their colors are red, white, and blue. Hot dogs make him sick, so don’t let him eat ‘em. Make sure you keep a container of tiramisu gelato in the freezer at all times, he goes through it faster than he probably should. And,” Clint’s throat clicked as he swallowed, his grasp loosening on Steve as his vision blurred and voice crackled. “He’ll glare at you but, make sure if ya’s go somewhere sunny he puts on lots of sunblock. He burns easy.” 

Stepping back and letting go of Steve’s shirt completely, Clint pressed his lips together, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. Stunned silence had settled over the room, no one quite sure what just happened, or what to say. All eyes were on Clint, including the pair that mattered the most. 

Clint could feel that gaze heavy on the back of his neck, and God how he wished he could just sink through the floor. Without even turning around he knew Phil was there at the door, watching him in the same way he used to when they were strictly handler/specialist, and probably silently celebrating that he wouldn’t have to be the one to say things were through and that he and Steve were together now, instead. 

Turning around slowly, Clint kept his eyes trained on the floor, his shoulders hunched just slightly as he started for the door, fully intent on just shouldering past Phil without a glance or word. He should have known that wouldn’t have worked. Phil’s firm grip was quickly on his arm, pulling him to a stop and forcing him to turn and face Phil. 

When Clint did look up, instead of sympathy or relief, there was hurt and confusion in Phil’s eyes, a worried crease furrowing his brows. It certainly wasn’t the face of a man who no longer had to tell the man he once loved that they were done for. 

“Clint? What –“

Clint shook his head, his heart twisting and clenching in his chest. “Phil. Don’t. I get it, okay? You don’t have to explain or whatever. I’m an adult, I can handle a break up, okay? Just… go be happy with Steve. I’ll get my junk outta the apartment by tomorrow and you –“

“Barton. Stop.” 

Just like that, Phil Coulson was gone, replaced with  _Agent_ Coulson, and successfully getting Clint to close his mouth and just stop talking. Chastised, Clint squared his jaw, his eyes darkening just a shade. 

Phil pulled Clint off to the side a bit more, slightly out of sight of the other Avengers – they both knew full well that wasn’t going to stop them from moving around in order to be able to see and hear them again. He stood so his own back was against the wall, a sign he wasn’t trying to make Clint feel trapped and that if Clint really wanted to leave, he easily could. 

Standing across from each other, Clint with his arms folded over his chest and Phil with his just barely in his pockets – probably to keep them from fidgeting nervously, Clint thought – the two men stood quiet for a moment before Phil finally spoke. 

“I really don’t know what’s going on, so, I’d like for you to explain to me why you think you need to clean your stuff out of the apartment, and why I’d go be happy with Steve. Please?”

Clint stayed quiet for another moment, not quite trusting his own voice. 

“Clint, please?”

It was the broken tone to Phil’s voice that finally had Clint looking up and the words spilling out. 

“You’re with him, anyway. Figured it’d be easier for me to clear out what little bit I have, than to make you try and pack up.” 

“I’m not with Steve,” Phil shook his head, his brow scrunched in confusion again. “Why would you think that?”

It was Clint’s turn to stare in confusion, at least for a couple seconds, before that confusion turned to frustration. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, Clint’s arms dropped and his hands curled into fists at his sides. 

“ _Why_?” He parroted, “ _Why_ would I think that? Couldn’t possibly be because you’ve practically been living out of his back pocket for the past month, could it? Because every time he comes in the room you brighten up like a kid on Christmas. Like I said, Coulson, I  _get it_.”

“No, Clint, you don’t.” Phil shook his head and took half a step closer, but kept his hands to himself. 

Clint shifted under Phil’s stare, the itch to run or fight beginning to twitch just under his skin. The calm way Phil had said he was wrong made things feel far more like they did while they were at work – something they had always sworn to try and never do. Bringing work home with them at the end of the day was the one thing they’d both agreed was a sure fire way to have the relationship end in flames. This was the end after all, then.

“Clint, you don’t understand. I’m not leaving you for Steve.”

“Then how come you – “

Phil held up a hand, shaking his head gently. “Let me talk now, Clint. I think you’ve talked enough for right now, don’t you?” 

Lips pressed tight in a thin line, Clint folded his arms over his chest again and just stared, waiting to hear what Phil had to say. Even if it ended up killing him. 

Of course, he wasn’t expecting Phil to unfold his arms for him. Or take his hands. Or look at him so patiently. 

“I love you, Clint,” Phil started, a small quirk to his lips as he stared into Clint’s eyes. “Even with all your insecurities and baggage. I love you. I’m not leaving you for Steve, and I’m sorry that you’ve been made to feel or think that I am. Steve and I… we’ve been working on a Christmas present for you.”

Clint blinked, jaw gone slightly slack as Phil continued to talk. 

“I commissioned Steve to draw something for you, and he and I have been spending a lot of time together trying to make it look right. I wanted to give it to you as a combination Christmas and,” Phil cut himself off, swallowing thickly and suddenly looking very uncertain. Sighing, he reached up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and it was then that Clint finally noticed how nicely Phil was dressed. Not in one of his typical suits and ties, but in the nice, soft, dark grey sweater that Clint loved to bury his face in -- and that Phil didn’t wear nearly enough in Clint’s opinion – and the really nice pair of gently worn jeans that showed off his ass in all the right ways. 

Date night clothes. 

“Phil? Wha—“

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Phil mumbled, pink rising up on his ears and one of his shy little smiles in place as he glanced off towards the other side of the room, just in time to catch eight heads duck back around the corner quickly. Stealthy, they were not. Sad, considering two were trained Russian spies. 

Clint swallowed hard past a sudden lump and tightness in his throat. “What was supposed to be a surprise?”

When Phil looked back to Clint, the pink was still high on his cheeks and he looked as nervous as a schoolboy. He shifted on his feet, still holding Clint’s hands. “It… Actually, c’mon. You’ve already got your coat on. I’ll tell you when we get home.”

“What are you… Phil? What the hell?”

“C’mon. Just, c’mon. We’ll be back,” Phil called over his shoulder as he dragged Clint out, pausing only long enough to grab his own leather jacket off the hook by the door. 

Clint let himself be pulled down to the street level, blinking in surprise at the horse and sleigh parked in front of the door, the driver waiting at the side to offer assistance if they needed it. When Clint had glanced out the window earlier that day, the sky was bright and clear. Not a single cloud in sight. The snow on the ground was pitiful, dirty, and certainly not enough for a real horse drawn sleigh to go around on. In fact, the weatherman had said they’d be hard pressed for a white Christmas. Yet, all around them a thick, fluffy and shimmering layer of fresh snow had fallen, and continued to fall so gently from the sky. 

Getting pulled up into the sleigh, and their laps covered with a thick wool blanket, Clint couldn’t help smile. He wasn’t getting dumped after all! Somehow, Phil had remembered what Clint had told him years and years ago, about one of the only happy memories he’d had as a child. The one and only time he could remember going to his mom’s parents’ house for Christmas. How it had snowed all day and into the night, and he and Barney and their mom had gone out with her dad for a sleigh ride, and rode around looking at all the houses lit up with brightly colored lights. 

Beneath the blanket, Phil’s hand found his, their fingers slotting together perfectly. The horse and driver took them slowly through all the older portions of the city, the fine old mansions looking like gingerbread houses and the brownstones like something out of a Christmas card. 

The fear that he was going to be dumped, abandoned all on his own again, faded; replaced instead with that old familiar slow burning flame of love and admiration for Phil. A little bit of that fear remained, and probably always would; but at least, at the moment, he knew Phil was keeping him. 

By the time they made it back to Avengers Tower, the snow had tapered off into just a few flakes fluttering about here and there. The holiday lights hanging from the street lamps shone down in blue, red, green, and gold, sparkling off the fresh snow. In the two hours they were gone, the front walk had clearly been shoveled once, only to be covered again almost immediately. Somewhere in the distance, a brass band played out The Christmas Song, the soulful sound of the trumpet leading through the melody settling a warmth in the bottom of Clint’s stomach and making him want to just cuddle into Phil, bury his face in the sweater, and stay that way forever.  

The lobby of the tower was warm and inviting, even with the massive tree in the corner taking up far more than its fair share of space. Garland hung along the trim, and an oversized wreath lit up the space behind the receptionist desk. All were things Clint wasn’t entirely sure he remembered seeing when they left. Either that, or he’d been so far out of it the past few weeks that he missed them going up. 

Still, no matter how elaborate and decorative the lobby was, it couldn’t hold a candle to the common room Clint and Phil had left just a couple hours prior. Multicolored lights lined the windows, doorways, and arches. An overabundance of mistletoe hung in each doorway. In the corner of the room, a large – but not huge – tree stood, decorated in everything from pine cones, to fake snow, to cheesy ornaments from Hallmark Store, to the even cheesier Popsicle stick homemade pieces. One of those “Fireplace DVDs” played on the TV, crackling quietly along with the gentle instrumental Christmas music from the sound system. The table was set for two with candles and more food than Clint was sure what to do with. A platter of ham, another of turkey (white meat only since neither Phil nor Clint were fans of the dark meat), a dish of sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, stuffing, and big, fluffy, golden croissants. 

Everything looked like it’d come out of a magazine. It was everything Clint had ever secretly longed for as a Christmas celebration. Well, almost. There were a couple things maybe missing, but that was okay. For now. 

Jackets hung by the door, Clint turned to Phil, a cautious look of hopefulness on his face. 

“This was your surprise for me?”

With a soft smile in place, Phil took Clint’s hand, pulling him off towards the table. “Part of it. This part I had help with.” The little smile turned coy as he held the chair out for Clint before sitting down. 

In the seat next to Clint, a thin, long rectangle package sat wrapped in silver and purple, the silver wrapping glittering in the soft glow of the candles. Clint glanced to it, confused before looking back to Phil. 

“Go ahead and open it, if you want. Then, I have one other present that I think will help put your mind to ease, and prove that I really don’t want to be with Steve.” 

The permission from Phil was all Clint needed before he was scooting the chair out enough to pull the present into his lap. It wasn’t very thick. In fact, Clint could feel a picture frame through the wrapping, and his curiosity piqued. Careful of the purple ribbon, he set the strip of fabric aside before tearing into the silver paper. 

What he saw under all the wrapping, and the thin sheet of protective foam, stole his breath away. A hand drawn poster of sorts stared back at him. The same shape and size as his old circus posters, only this one was much more flattering than those. In the top left corner was himself, dressed in his SHIELD issued uniform, crouched and focused, his bow drawn as he stared down an unseen foe. In the bottom right corner was Phil, suit and tie as impeccable as ever, head tilted upwards just slightly as if looking towards where Hawkeye was perched, a walkie-talkie held close to his face, ready to give Hawkeye the order to shoot. Taking up the open space in the middle, stretching diagonally from Clint’s image down to Phil’s, were two hands – their hands – clasped as if helping each other up, or holding on to keep one from falling, and a plain gold band on his ring finger.

Clint stared at the picture for a long, silent minute. Trying to take it all in and understand what Phil was trying to say without speaking. Mouth open, ready to ask his question, Clint turned his head to look back at Phil, only to freeze when the gold band from the picture glimmered real as life in a soft deep purple velvet box next to his plate. His eyes darted up to meet Phil’s, taking in the shy way Phil smiled and shrugged, and not missing the nervous way he fidgeted with the cloth covering the table. 

“I asked Steve to draw that for you as a Christmas present and… hopefully an engagement present,” he said, voice soft and cautious. “The others found out I was planning to propose and… well, they wanted to help, so…”

Swallowing thickly, Clint glanced back down to the ring, then the picture, then Phil again. 

“Thor called in a couple favors to get you the snow, the sleigh ride was Tony’s idea,” Phil added quickly, already letting his nervousness show. “Bruce cooked everything, I think Natasha might have helped… and Natasha also promised to keep Tony out of here so I could ask you if would marry me. So, will y—“

Phil never got to finish the question before Clint had him by the front of his sweater and pulled him in for a hard, passionate kiss. God, he’d been so stupid to think Phil was going to leave him! He felt like a total ass, and was definitely going to have to apologize to Cap later; and thank him for the beautiful drawing. That was totally getting hung up in their living room. 

From the kitchen, a piece of silverware hit a plate before a chair scraped across the floor. 

“No, it’s been quiet long enough!” Tony exclaimed, “If he said no, we’d know it. No more hiding in the kitchen!”

Clint pulled back from the kiss with a laugh just as Tony bustled into the room, his plate and glass in hand. 

“Stark, you promised to stay out of the way,” Natasha followed, with Bruce following behind her, holding two glasses of eggnog, Natasha holding their plates. 

Tony shook his head, setting his place at one end of the table and waving his fork (piled high with dark meat) at her. “No. I believe my complete promise was to behave, shut up, and stay in the kitchen while Agent proposed. I fulfilled my promise. Now I don’t have to do shit.”

Thor, Maria, Sam, Steve, and Bucky were the last to exit the kitchen, each with their own plates piled high with food. The noise level bounced up a couple more decibels as they all found places at the table. Sam and Bucky were playfully insulting Tony, while Steve and Maria tried to congratulate Clint and Phil over Thor’s excited exclamations of the joyous time of year, and their friends’ engagement.

Slipping the ring onto his finger, Clint looked to Phil and grinned. He leaned back over to give Phil another quick kiss, murmuring his “I love you, I’m sorry I was an idiot,” against Phil’s lips before sitting back in his seat and setting the poster aside. 

This was much more like what he’d always longed for Christmas to be like. The decorations, the food, and everyone he cared most about in the world gathered loud and around the table. Whatever little bit of fear, that had been lingering in the pit of Clint’s stomach, disappeared without a trace the longer everyone sat there laughing and eating. 

Okay, so maybe just this once, his eyes and mind had played tricks on him. He could accept it this one time; if it meant he got his Christmas wish of a perfect day with Phil, he could definitely accept it this one time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Phil commissions Steve to draw Clint a Christmas gift. Clint gets increasingly more insecure seeing how close Phil is getting to Steve. He starts withdrawing, thinking he’s about to get dumped. Phil is really about to propose and all the Avengers have roles to play in it.


End file.
